


Sacrifice

by shinebright



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Idek this is probs shit, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7919983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinebright/pseuds/shinebright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a deal goes wrong, Eddard Stark, head of the Stark crime family is forced to sacrifice his eldest daughter to his arch enemy Tywin Lannister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pls don't judge this is only my second fanfic and I know it's shit ah thanks for clicking on it anyway xxx

6 months ago

 

"And why should I end this war Stark? If you hadn't noticed I seem to be winning it." Tywin Lannisters voice was cool and calm when he addressed his enemy.

"Because no more men need to die. Yes you have the numbers and the victories, but no more blood needs to be spilled. Your sons have been returned to you." Neds reply was equally as calm, but there was an undertone of pleading when he spoke. The room was silent as the two heads of two of the major families stared at each other across the mahogany table. The Starks had accidentally started a war, when a deal with the Freys turned sour, and the Northern crime family found themselves in a sticky situation with the Lannister-backed Freys. The two families struggled against each other for territory, and countless men had died in shoot-outs and raids. The Starks where running out of men, for although they controlled the North, the biggest region in all of Westeros, it was sparsely populated. The patriarch of the family, Ned Stark had called a meeting with Tywin Lannister, in order to try and talk his way out of further bloodshed. Stark knew that if he continued fighting this war, although there was a chance for Northern victory, it would come at a high cost. Ned stark was a family man at heart, and because of that he had a great many connections. His wife’s family the Tullys controlled the Riverlands region, and his good friend Jon Arryn controlled the Vale. Stark knew if things continued the way they would, alliances would be called upon, more and more joining a war that would send Westeros into chaos. It had to end.

 

“Yes, my sons have been returned to me” Said Tywin “But that is not enough, there is a price that you must pay.” The pair where negotiating in a sitting room at the Freys’ mansion at the Twins. Outside the doors sat various members of the two families, all armed to the teeth, and sitting in a room simmering with tension. The Lannister and Stark families had always hated each other. 

“I would do anything to protect my children.” Ned leaned forward in his seat, and rested his suit clad elbows on knees.

 

“And if I let you off scott-free, how do I know that you won’t turn on me again?”

 

“You know I pride myself on the virtue of honour. If I give you my word I won’t go back on it.” Ned took another swig from his glass of scotch, and held the green eyed patriarchs gaze.

 

“As much as you are an honourable man Ned Stark, I still don’t trust you. I need something to assure me that you would never rise up again. Something to seal the deal so to speak.” Tywin rose from his chair, now physically as well as mentally gaining the upper hand.

 

“Cut to the chase Lannister.”

 

“I want your daughter.” He said bluntly.

 

“You son of a fucking bitch.” Ned spat the words slowly, each syllable slowly dripping off his tongue with pure hatred.

 

“Careful Stark.” Tywin warned, green eyes glittering.

 

“She’s 21 Lannister, you can’t take her fucking life away like this, there has to be another way.” There was desperation in Ned’s voice.

 

“There is another way. You keep your daughter, we continue this war and then you loose everything.” Tywins voice and eyes where so cold Ned felt his heart seize in his chest. He was afraid. Afraid of this man, whose power could eclipse the sun, whose demands he had no choice to meet, those demands which would cost him his own daughter.

 

“And what will you do with her? Marry her yourself? Rape her or give her to one of your sons or grandsons? She will be a prisoner the rest of her life. Nothing but a piece to be moved about the board whenever you please. You’re a monster”

 

“I may be a monster Stark, but I am know fool. If I give your daughter to one of my inadequate descendants, the risk runs that if they use her against me. Like you said, she will become a powerful piece in the game, the daughter of Winterfell, whose uncle controls the Riverlands, and whose aunt is wife to the head of the Vale. I will marry her Stark, and she will become mine.”

 

 

— — — — — — — — — — —  
5 months ago

 

Sansa Stark looked in the mirror and smoothed down the front of her heavy white alph and Russo wedding dress. Although it was beautiful, the gown suffocated her. High necked and long sleeved, it was off white and silver with chantilly layered laced tule in a fishtail style. The dress was heavily hand-embroided with gold and silver crystals as well as pearls and silk, with a matching veil that trailed behind her on the floor when she walked. Upon her dainty feet where white Manolo Blank heels, sky high in height with diamante detailing. She had diamond drop earrings dangling from her lobes and her long red hair had been swept up into a neat ballerina bun at the base off her neck, the hairstylist pulling a few strands out to frame her porcelain face. Sansa had classical features that her makeup enhanced them, rather than overpowering them. Her big blue eyes where framed with rose gold eyeshadow and black mascara, and her lips where painted a soft pink. All the while the hair and makeup people had told her how beautiful she was and how enchanted he was going to be. It was beautiful and sickening. Today was her wedding day, the day she had dreamed about since she was a little girl. She was supposed to be happy, over the moon and ecstatic, but the truth was she was terrified and not in the way brides are supposed to be. She was marrying a man she loved, but instead the most powerful and cruel man in all of Westeros, the head of the most dangerous crime family in the country most likely the world. She hadn’t even met him for gods’ sakes! There was no engagement party, only rushed plans made over the phone by others, and a promise that he would give her her ring at the ceremony. She hadn’t met nearly any of the people coming to this wedding. She didn’t know his family, or his friends or anyone, it was all a show set up to show the world of crime just how much power Tywin Lannister had, that he could pluck from the North its most precious winter rose, or that is at least what her father said. 

 

Sansa remembered the day her father had returned from his peace talks, and entered the house with her two elder brothers trailing behind him, confused expressions on their faces. He hadn’t told them yet. When Father did, when he told their family of the deal he had cut with the Bannisters, her older brothers had raged at him. Her half brother Jon had had to hold Robb back as he launched himself at their father “HOW COULD YOU? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? YOU HAVE SOLD SANSA TO THE DEVIL YOU ASSHOLE!!!” Her mother had obviously been informed of the situation prior as she didn’t rage against her father, only smoothed Robs hair as she tried to calm him down. Sansa’s reaction was pure shock, she had just stood there stunned. Her 18 year old little sister, Arya, had yelled at their father two, screaming that he couldn’t take her from them, that she would kill all of the bannisters before they even laid eyes on Sansa. In truth it was this reaction that surprised Sansa the most, she had never gotten along with her sister well, they where too different. Arya was brave and boyish, and she thought that Sansa was stupid and vapid, so Sansa was surprised at her strong reaction. Her two younger brothers, Bran, 16, and Rickon, 14 had quieter reactions, still protesting only not as violently as Robb. Mother had yelled at them to all be silent, and all voices stopped. Everyone had stared at each other, before Catelyn had asked her eldest daughter “Sansa, my darling, you don’t have to do this. We can find another way Im sure.” Sansa had looked at each member of her family in turn, finishing at her youngest brother, he was only fourteen, still only a baby. She knew there was no other way. Sansa had looked back at her mother, and answered quietly as tears streamed down her cheeks “Its okay mother, I will do my duty.”

 

Sansa was brought back to the present by the sound of car pulling up in front of the Kings Landing Red Keep Hotel where they were staying. Her father didn’t want Bannisters in the North, and the bannisters didn’t want Starks in the West, so the wedding was to be held in the capital city of Westeros, Kingslanding in the Crownlands. Different Houses (the Westerosi term for crime family or mob) from all over the country would be attending. From Drone, the Martells, from the Stormlands the Baratheons, the Tyrells of the Reach, the Greyjoys and their band of pirates from the Iron Islands, and Sansa’s own relatives from the Vale and the Riverlands. The crownlands was a neutral area, because thats where all political decisions were made (albeit most of these were influenced by the Houses). Sans had asked to have a moment alone in the huge suite, before she walked down the aisle, one last moment of freedom before she fell into the jaws of the great lion. All the things she wanted, the things she should be doing at twenty one would be irrelevant once Tywin Lannister slipped that ring on her long slim finger. No more clubbing, no more girls nights out, probably no more university (Sansa was studying music and fine arts) she would no longer be able to see any of her friends, or her beloved wolf-hybrid Lady. After the wedding she had to go live at Casterly Rock, as the wife of Tywin Lannister. 

 

There was knock on the door. “Miss Sansa,” It was her new maid Shae, who was a wedding ‘gift’ from her new husband. He had also sent her lemon cakes (her favourites) countless vases full of flowers that now decorated her suite, and a note that said there would be more gifts to come. Yet Sansa was too smart to crave material things, all she wanted was her freedom. 

 

“Come in.” She called to her volantene maid. Sansa had tried to despise her, but there was something truly honest about shae, she seemed to truly care about Sansa. 

 

“The cars are here Ms Sansa,” Shae crossed the room to help Sansa turn in the gown, adjusting the skirts around her legs. “Your brothers and mother have already left for the Sept, your sister too.” The beauty team rushed in again one last time, adjusting her veil patting finishing touches on her flawless face. “Come we must help you down to the lobby.” The hair and makeup people finished their preening, and lifted her heavy train, carrying the delicate layers of fabric behind her as she made her way to the elevator. She held her hand, helping her to balance, and then helped her inside the large elevator. The attendants arranged her skirts around her, before ducking out and pressing the ground floor button.

 

“I’m afraid Shae.” She whispered as the level count went down. 

 

“You’re going to be okay my lady,” Shae replied. brushing a strand of hair back from Sansa’s face. Her fingers traced Sansa’s cheekbones “I will be right there behind you, and I promise you, if anyone hurts you…..” Her eyes met Sansa’s, and Sansa dipped her head, she knew what Shae would do, it seemed a thousand people had threatened that this past morning. 

 

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors slid open, revealing the flower-laden lobby. Later tonight all the guests would return to the Red Keep for the reception in the grand ballroom. Sansa descended the stairs, her gaze fixing on her father who stood at the base of the stairs. He smiled that sad little smile of his, reaching out a hand towards his eldest daughter.

 

“You look beautiful my darling.” He murmured, and kissed her on the forehead. “I am truly sorry Sans-“

“Father,” She cut him off, “Please, lets not talk about this now.”

“You’re right swelling,” He reached into his tux pocket, “But I have something for you.” Ned opened his palm, and in it was a delicate silver necklace, with a tiny pendant in the shape of a wolf. “This was your grandmothers. Her grandmother gave it to her, and now I am giving it to you.”

“Father I can’t-“

“Hush sweetling, you are a Stark.” Sansa felt tears pricking in her eyes at her father’s words. “I know sometimes, you maybe don’t feel like a Stark, but you are. You are brave, and strong and kind perhaps more-soo than any of us. You are a Stark and you will always be a Stark.” Father gestured for her to turn, and she did. He looped the chain around her neck and beneath the tule and lace of her veil. Sansa turned back around and hugged her father she was trying so hard not to burst into tears.

“Come sweetling, the future awaits.” Sansa managed a small smile as Shae handed her bouquet. She looped her arm through her arm through her fathers, gripped the flowers and tucked the wolf pendant beneath the lace of her gown, her feet felt unsure as they made their way down the steps and into the car that would take her to the rest of her life.


	2. Chapter 2

The Great Sept of Kingslanding was slowly filling with people. Senators and statesmen brushing shoulders with all the great crime houses of Westeros. Lannister security personnel circled the sept, armed to the teeth beneath their tuxedo jackets. On their lapels a lions head pin, a small reminder to the guests of who they where, of why the guests were here and a reminder to the guests to stay the hell in line or face the consequences. The Seven were today watching over a melting pot of alliances and rivalries. The Martells, all clad in varying shades of orange, red and black Balmain, hated the Lannisters, but held an uneasy truce with the house. The Tyrells hated the Martells (with the exception of crippled Willas, who was actually rather fond of Oberyn Martell) the Iron Born hated everyone except the Starks, and in return were hated by everyone except the Starks. Politicians brushed shoulders with drug lords and gangsters, women traded backhanded compliments over crystal flutes of champagne. Enemies and allies alike had all shown their faces at the wedding of the century. The significance of this event not lost on them. The people in this wrong, along with the majority of the continent, all feared Tywin Lannister. If they didn't, then they were fools for Tywin Lannister's power seemed as to have no limitations. The man to make the wild North yield was not one to mess with. 

Luckily for Tyrion, this man was also his (reluctant) father. His father had yet to arrive in the flower covered sept, so Tyrion stood in mild conversation with his brother Jaime and Varys, a man with no last name Whose place in the world revolved around intelligences, his ‘little birds’ helped the Lannisters keep track of other houses. Varys and Tyrion had an odd kind of friendship, they were both intelligent outcasts - Tyrion being a dwarf and Varys a eunuch. 

“I am very curious to meet this Ms Stark, if she is anything at all like her mother than your father has quite a prize.” Varies mused to his companion, eyes scanning the sept.

“Ah yes, for the child to be sacrificed to my father is the real prize, I had totally forgotten Varys, for a moment there I thought the prize was three whole kingdoms to control!” Tyrion sighed, “the truth is I pity that poor girl, being married off to my father like a lamb to the slaughter.” 

Varies nodded in agreement, “Barbaric but alas, the great lion himself, ready for the lamb to be served.” Tyrion saw the entry of the groom, who was power personified. Tywin wore a black tux, with a white shirt and gold cufflinks, his green eyes glittered around the room, checking the guards were at their designated points and surveying the guests. Tywin was accompanied by his brother, Tyrions uncle Kevin, and their guards, including the monstrosity that was Gregor Clegane. They walked towards the front of the sept, crowds parting like the Red Sea for a force far greater wrapped in flesh. Tywin scame to a stop in front of his youngest son, greeting Tyrion and Varys. 

“Where is Jaime, Tyrion?” The great lion asked, scanning the room for his favourite child. Jaime was the middle child, and his fathers favourite. From a young age Jaime had been groomed to take over the family business from Tywin, a fact that had always plagued their older sister Cersei. Jaime had a decency that their father lacked, he had always been kind to Tyrion, whereas his twin Cersei had hated her younger brother with a passion. The twins were both beautiful, with golden blonde hair and sparkling green eyes, Cersei and Jaime had always been two peas in a pod, closer than any pair of siblings ought to be. 

“Don’t stress father! The prodigal son returns!” Jaime had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, adjusting his tie alongside Cersei, whose long locks were swept up in a complicated nest of braids at the back of her head. Her beautiful features were marred by what seemed to be a permanent look of unhappiness. Her deep crimson lips matched her embellished dress with its low v and intricate detailing. Cersei was unhappily married to a senator, Robert Baratheon and she had three suspiciously blonde haired green eyed children who were somewhere in the crowd. 

“I don’t understand why we must put on this ridiculous fanfare, couldn’t you marry the girl at some county court?” Cersei asked, taking another sip of her champagne. “And now we have to suffer the Starks for hours, not to mention the rest of the rabble invited.” 

“You will be as pleasant as possible towards the Starks Cersei. I have just ended a war, it could have been one of your children married off to a Stark, so count your blessings or I will count them for you.” Tywins words shut Cersei right up, and she downed the rest of her champagne. At this rate, Tyrion thought, she would be drunk before the service even began. 

“Tywin,” Kevan said, “The Starks have arrived.” The group turned to witness the entry of the bride’s family. Catelyn Tully Stark, the matriarch of the family, descended the sept stairs flanked by guards and her children. She wore a blue velvet gown that perfectly complemented her porcelain skin. She was flanked by her eldest son Robb, and nephew Jon Snow, both in crisp tuxes, followed by who Tyrion Assumed must be Ned and Catelyns younger children. There was a girl, Arya stark he assumed, short in a black and white jacket with intricate embroidery and black leather pants. She certainly has the stark look, Tyrion observed. She had short dark hair and grey eyes that glared around the room, she must have been only around 18 but there was something haunting and dangerous in her eyes that made Tyrion shiver. She walked next to two younger boys, one who looked about 14 pushing a wheelchair containing another older one in glasses. These must be the boys Rickon and Brandon. The Stark family accompanied by their security team, made up of serious looking Northman, and a curiously large blonde woman with big sapphire eyes that swept across the room. 

As Catelyn and her family crossed the room, they first stopped in front of the Tullys, Catelyns uncle and brother and the Starks closest allies, then Catelyn’s sister Lydia and her husband Jon Arryn, along with their wimpish son Robyn. There the two younger boys stayed, with their Great Uncle the Blackfish and other family members as the older Starks followed their mother through the crowd to face the Lannisters. Catelyns skirts swished to a stop before the great lion, the steel in her Tully blue eyes matching his.

"Tywin."

“Catelyn” he said in reply. 

"I must commend you on the appearance of the sept it is truly beautiful and nothing less than my daughter deserves. But let us not pretend we are here for some joyous occasion. No doubt today you understand what will happen to you if you miss treat my daughter. “

“Are you threatening me Catelyn?” Tywin asked coldly

This war we both hope to avoid will start again at a thousand times the cost should any harm come to her. Do not forget my house's words family, duty and honour. I will burn both our houses to the ground if she is hurt." Catelyn looked him with a look that could take down the Wall.

"I will take care of your daughter. Tywin said "and in turn you will hold up your end of the deal." Catelyns eyes narrowed at the order. 

"Of course," she replied her voice colder than the barren land her family hailed from. "However, in order to ensure Sansa's safety, I have to ask that one of our own guards be personally assigned to my daughter, to reassure us of her safety in her care." Catelyn gestured behind her, "Brienne, step forward." The giant blond women stepped forward, an impressively tall and muscled figure moving to stand beside the matriarch.  
"What a choice!" Tyrion quipped, and was ignored by Tywin as his eyes assessed the woman before him. "MY what strange beasts they have in the north!" The woman bristled with discomfort, making his brother smile all the more brightly.

"Very well, but I must request that she be the second to Sandor Clegane, who I have already personally assigned to the protection of your daughter." Tywin said. Catelyns eyes widened, "Clegane?!" Was her exclamation, "no I won't have a mon-

"Speaking of the bride" Kevan cut in, his intrusion immediately demanded the attention of everyone, "the driver rang, she is almost here."  
"Very well." Tywin said, and turned back to Catelyn ”Enjoy the ceremony Lady Stark.” 

Looking out over the congregation, Tywin Lannister’s eyes were met with fear, uncertainty, jealousy anger and awe. 

\- - - - — - - - 

Sansa looked up at the sept doors, the big golden gates that would soon open into her future. The music swelled behind them, a traditional Westerosi bridal march. Sansa turned to her father, and took his arm. As they began the descent into the sept, Sansa’s eyes darted around the chamber, it was filled mostly with people she did not know, and a few she did, Fathers men from the North, her aunt from the vale and her uncle and great uncle from the Riverlands. Her family was at the front near the altar, and above them on the sept stairs, was her husband to be. He scared, her, from the moment her eyes connected with his, he scared her. He was tall, and older than her father, with sharp green eyes that pierced her through the middle, even from such a distance. Sansa felt her heart ring so loud in her ears, beating so the music was drowned out. She had to truly key herself in and focus so she wouldn’t fall in the heavy dress. The veil muted the colours around her, but it could not hide the piercing stares she faced as she walked down that aisle, could not make her ignore the heavy stairs of the seven giant statues, the Gods sitting in judgement above them all. Her fathers presence gave her strength, as did the presence of her family as she passed them on her journey to the alter.

\- - - - - - - - - - 

She was beautiful. There was no denying. It surprised him, how beautiful she was, and in truth he was pleased to have such a becoming bride. Tywin had come to enjoy the finer things in life, Sansa Stark was fine, and he would enjoy her even if she did not reciprocate - for she had no choice. The congregation were in awe, for she was tall beautiful and graceful, everything many of them hoped to be. As she came closer, reaching the front of the aisle, her father lifted the long veil back, kissing her head slowly before returning to his place by his wife’s side. Tywin reached down to help her up the small set of stairs, her thin white fingers curling over his palm, and there was fear in her eyes. As she took her place by his sound, Tywin noticed something, something that he himself had grown quite accustomed to seeing in others in his presence - fear. Her face was emotionless. frozen like the cold stone features of Venus De Milo, betrayed only by the deep blue jewels of her eyes - she knew her place.

“Dearly beloved, beneath the watch of the Mother, the Father, the Maiden, the Warrior, the Crone, the Smith and the Stranger, we are gathered here today to witness the most sacred union. Marriage, the foundation of….” As the septon began his opening passage, Tywin took more time to watch his nervous bride, as the congregation watched them. She was looking intently at the septon, the nervousness had spread all over her face now, yet her head was held gracefully high. She seemed to notice his gaze, and turned her face to him. His bride smiled shyly at him, a comely expression to split her face. 

“……. If there is anyone here who does not wish this union to be formed, speak now, or forever hold your peace.” At the septon’s words Sansa closed her eyes, and Tywin could tell beneath the beautiful facade, she was hoping praying that someone would step forward - but no one did. Even if they had, this alliance would be formed, if he had had to drag the Stark girl screaming to the alter he would, but Tywin Lannister would have the North.  
“Very well,” continued the septon, “As I begin the binding of the hands may the groom first, then the bride say their vows.” Tywin reached out his and, and as is the westerosi custom, his bride placed hers on top. THe septon drew a white ribbon from around his neck, embroidered in gold with the seven pointed star. “Repeat after me Sir,” he addressed Tywin.

“I, Tywin Loreon Lannister….”  
“I, Tywin Loreon Lannister….” As he said the vows, Tywin began to feel an ache in his chest. The last time he had said those vows felt like a lifetime ago. He had been standing beneath the Rock, the late afternoon sun burning against the bright white sand. He remembered that day more clearly than ever other day in his life, Joanna had looked so strong, so beautiful and so powerful. Joanna’s strength matched his, her drive for the betterment of the family matched his, there was no one in the world he could ever love like he loved Joanna. Tywin once pondered whether or not Joanna would approve of his remarrying. He thought about it one evening for a lengthy amount of time before he came to the conclusion that she would want what is best fro the family, want to secure the legacy of their House for years to come. High in the seventh heavens, Tywin could feel her taking comfort that despite his actions, she would forever have his heart. 

“I Sansa Minisa Lyarra Stark,” her voice was soft and sweet, “Take thee, Tywin Loreon Lannister, from this day forward to be my lawfully wedded husband,” she was shaking now as she repeated the priests words, staring up at him, “to have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, to love cherish and ob-“ it was Southern tradition that the bride have obey in her vows, yet this seemed to struck a cord with Sansa, and she liked down at her feet after her voice broke off. The priest repeated himself, and when she looked back up at Tywin, he saw a tear roll down her cheek, weakness. “to love cherish and obey, until we are parted by death, I vow to you.” She looked away from him, towards her family, as the septon continued. He blessed the ribbon with the oil of the seven, before unraveling their hands, all the while muttering prayers to the Seven.

“Could I have the rings please?” Kevin stepped forward, ever the loyal brother, and handed the septon the rings. The septon blessed the rings, raising them above his head to the gods, “If the bride would place this ring on the grooms left hand and repeat:”  
“I give this ring to thee as a symbol of my love, now and always,” The words were hollow, yet she placed the ring on his finger nonetheless. The septon gave Tywin the ring for Sansa and she gasped. The massive diamond sparkled gloriously in the sunlight, he repeated the septons words, and carefully slid the ring onto her trembling finger.

“In the light of the Mother and Father, the Maiden and the Warrior, the Crone and the Smith, and finally the Stranger, I know pronounce you husband and wife.” The septon turned to Tywin, “You may now kiss your bride.” Sansa looked bashfully down at her feet, as he pulled her in by her tiny waist, her hands came up to grasp his lapels as he leaned in - and sealed their union with a kiss. The congregation erupted with cheers, yet Tywin was in shock, he had expected to feel nothing when he kissed his bride, maybe the carnal pleasure of the basic wants of man, but nothing like this, like this spark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys sorry for the extended hiatus the good ole personal life has been a little bit dramatic, but i promise i will try and be better xo the ceremony i kind of based off anglican weddings, because i know those best, ANYWAY FEEL FREE TO COMMENT i love ur respnses any constructive criticism is WELCOME
> 
> Catelyns dress - without the high slit  
> http://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/fall-2016-couture/elie-saab/slideshow/collection#10
> 
> Aryas jacket  
> http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-3086139/Balmain-release-autumn-line-H-M-models-Jourdan-Dunn-Kendall-Jenner-fans.html
> 
> the ringgggg  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/BQYnqhtFXIa/?taken-by=champagnegem

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!! I kno its rlly bad so any constructive criticism or feedback welcome idk if I'm going to continue this it took me ages to write this chapter also spot the Beyoncé reference
> 
> Sansa's wedding dress https://ralphandrusso.com/couture/autumn-winter-2015-2016/lookbook?look=44
> 
> Her shoes http://hollywoodlife.com/2011/12/13/bellas-breaking-dawn-wedding-shoes-manolo-blahnik-where-to-buy/


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